


seeds of chaos

by sunfreckled



Category: Dota (Video Games) RPF
Genre: Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Kissing, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunfreckled/pseuds/sunfreckled
Summary: A collection of short stories exploring team dynamics, friendships and relationships mostly between the members of new and old OG rosters.The seed has been planted.
Relationships: Ceb | Sébastien Debs/N0tail | Johan Sundstein
Comments: 13
Kudos: 3





	1. make way for the midlaner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kicking it off with some malding Séb and Topias feels, because why the hell not.

“_Va te faire enculer, branleur_,” Séb curses and smashes his fist against the keyboard. He cannot believe they lost that game, although maybe he should’ve expected it after he got dumpstered in the mid lane. His poor keyboard has been through so many pub games, gotten quite a few hits, and it seems this one was the last straw. Séb hears the keyboard crack and mutters a string of curses that would make his mother disown him if she heard.

He’s gone through a couple of keyboards during his time of playing DotA, but it’s the first time Sébastien has ever smashed a keyboard completely in half. It’s quite an impressive feat, if you think about it.

Sébastien doesn’t even think twice before dialing Johan’s number, fingers tapping against the table impatiently. As soon as Johan answers, he launches into a heated rant. “Remember this one guy, Topson, who I meet a lot in pubs? This little bitch picked Invoker into OD mid and proceeded to absolutely wreck me during laning stage. All these counters and this fucking Invoker with some stupid-ass build goes and wins the game. It’s so goddamn _stupid_. I broke my fucking keyboard I’m so tilted.”

The French accent is even more prominent in Séb’s voice when he gets frustrated, and this time it’s so thick he doesn’t know if Johan understood half of what he just said. He stops for a moment to breathe in, his body nearly vibrating from all the annoyance.

The line is dead for a second, before Johan lets out an amused laugh. “And you called me because you want emotional support? I dunno Séb, sounds like this guy is just better than you.”

There’s nothing malicious in Johan’s voice; Sébastien knows he’s just teasing. He’s heard from multiple people that fucking with him while he’s tilted is very entertaining. It’s not like he could really ever be mad at Johan, anyway. And this time, there’s certain determination in his tiltedness.

“I called you because I found us a midlaner.”

Not too long after Topson – who’s name is actually Topias – flies to Berlin. Jesse is there to meet him first since they’re both from Finland, them having already bonded over their shared home country. Sébastien and Johan wait for them in their training centre, eager to meet their new pubstar midplayer.

When Jesse finally arrives with Topias in tow, Sébastien locks eyes with him immediately. They’ve met each other in pubs countless of times, and it feels odd to finally meet face to face. Johan, who’s standing next to Séb and sees the way he stares at Topias, snickers amusedly at their interaction. “Why do I hear boss battle music all of a sudden?”

“If you can’t beat them, make them join you. Let’s hope you don’t tilt me playing on the same team too,” Sébastien laughs as he walks up to Topias and shakes his hand, letting a small smirk curve on his lips. “Welcome to OG. Happy to have you, man.”

“Thanks for the invite.” Topias smiles at him with that reserved Finnish guy aura Sébastien recognizes; Jesse used to have it too before he got truly comfortable with the team.

“Oh, don’t worry Séb. Tilting you is my job,” Jesse remarks with a smirk and throws his arm around Séb’s shoulders. Sébastien groans and tries to shake Jesse off him, while the Finn keeps laughing and messing with him. As the two bicker like children, Johan steps forward to shake Topias’ hand.

“Hey man, I’ve heard a lot about you. Welcome to the team, hope you’re ready to show us what you’re made of.” Johan smiles at Topias who returns the smile, simply nodding as an answer. He doesn’t seem to be much of a talker, not in English anyway, but Johan has learned that the silent ones are the deadliest. More importantly, Johan has a really good feeling about him. With Topias and Ana joining the team, they might be able to surprise some people.

OG has never been afraid to pick up new talent, and that hasn’t changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to go to sleep already but I really wanted to post this first. Guess I’ll blame any mistakes on my sleepiness :)


	2. two Finns, two champions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to.
> 
> me: writes this  
me: gets emotional  
me: surprised pikachu face

Jesse knocks on the door, adjusting the six-pack of beer in his other hand. He doesn’t have to wait for too long; the door opens not a minute after, revealing a tired looking Lasse standing on the other side. He steps back to let Jesse in, the door clicking shut behind them. The beer exchanges hands as Lasse takes it to the kitchen to put in the fridge, while Jesse takes his shoes off and heads further into the apartment.

“How are you holding up, man?” Jesse knows the answer already, but he asks anyway, hoping to coax Lasse into talking. Without alcohol, or with it – it won’t matter. As long as Lasse doesn’t shut himself down and bottle everything up, he will count it as a success. Jesse sits down on the couch in the living room, his head turned towards the kitchen.

It’s been a few months since Lasse was released from Team Liquid, and Jesse wishes he could’ve been there for his friend earlier. But the grind towards TI9 was in full speed for OG when everything went down, and Lasse was busy joining Chaos – only shortly after leaving Liquid – to get a chance to play in the International. They had seen each other during the tournament, but only briefly. And now that they are finally both back in Finland, Jesse wants to make up for the fact that he wasn’t there for Lasse in June.

Lasse stays quiet for some time, digging up two cold beers out of the refrigerator. He walks up to Jesse and hands him one, sitting down next to him. He corks the bottle and takes a swig before shrugging. “Fine, I suppose.”

The noncommittal tone of Lasse’s voice tells Jesse that he needs to wait and let him decide when he’s ready to talk. And so he takes a sip of his beer, steering the conversation elsewhere. They talk about their shared friends, video games and everything else, pretending for a while that pro-scene DotA doesn’t exist. It’s Lasse who eventually acknowledges it, asking Jesse how it feels to be a back-to-back champion.

“I want to say good, because it does. In that moment, it did. But the truth is that I feel numb.” It’s the first time Jesse has confessed the feeling out loud, and it feels odd. He has played DotA professionally for a long time, he played for a long time before going pro. He’s still passionate about the game deep inside, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. He sees why he got sucked into DotA in the first place, but he also sees that he’s wanted to get out for a while already.

Lasse nods thoughtfully, and Jesse knows he understands. They have been friends for a long time; they have watched each other’s career evolve and eventually reach the highest level. Both their names will forever live on in the Aegis of Champions. But there is certain determination left in Lasse that isn’t there for Jesse, not anymore.

Maybe it’s because after being removed from Liquid’s active roster, Lasse has something to prove. To his old teammates, to the community, to himself. For Jesse, there isn’t anyone he needs to prove anything to. He’s content with what he’s achieved, confident in his skills as a player.

“I don’t think I’ll be returning to the active roster anymore. You ever thought about playing position 4?” Jesse asks and smiles when Lasse laughs, shaking his head in amusement. Lasse is too good of a carry player to move onto supporting just yet – perhaps sometime in the future. Jesse is confident that he will get picked up by a tier 1 team soon enough; Lasse is well-known and well-liked in the pro scene, after all. 

They continue chatting while drinking, and as the night goes on, Lasse’s lips start to get a little more loose. And eventually, he talks. “It feels shitty, you know? Almost four years, I was there from the start. I know it’s nothing against me personally, things weren’t just working I guess. They wanted w33, that’s how it is. That’s how it fucking is.”

Jesse listens to Lasse’s drunken rambling, only slightly tipsy himself. He nods along silently, hearing the pain in his friend’s voice. He allows Lasse to let it all out, deciding not to interrupt or comment on anything himself. There’s nothing Jesse can do about the situation, but he can just be there for Lasse and listen. And eventually the flood of words runs dry, and Lasse goes quiet, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“Thank you for listening. You’re a good friend, Jesse,” Lasse mumbles after a moment of quiet reflection, wrapping his arms around Jesse. He smells very strongly of the beer they’ve been drinking, but Jesse doesn’t mind. He hugs his friend tight, patting his back reassuringly as if to tell him that everything is going to be okay. They’re usually not very touchy-feely, but the hug feels nice, and Jesse can feel Lasse relaxing in his arms.

He leans back against the couch, and Lasse cuddles into him, and they sit like that in silence for a good while. It’s warm and comfortable, and they end up falling asleep holding each other.

Lasse gets picked up by Team Secret in November. They end up winning the second Major of the season, going 3-2 against Evil Geniuses in the Grand Finals. Jesse watches the games from home, pride swelling in his chest. Judging by the winners’ interview on the stage, it’s clear as day that Lasse feels confident again; he’s proven his abilities yet again to the doubters, most importantly to himself. 

Later that night, Jesse’s phone buzzes.

_ took down EG for you, you’re welcome _

_congrats man, proud of you.   
_ _and thank you, someone’s gotta keep them in check while OG’s not there_

_anything for you ;)_

Jesse snorts quietly, shaking his head. He ends up calling Lasse after he’s done celebrating with the team, happy to hear his thoughts about playing on Secret and in the Major. The way Lasse talks about the games reinforces Jesse’s suspicions about his own relationship with DotA; the drive in Lasse’s voice is something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Retirement will be the way to go for him, but he is happy that Lasse gets to continue the grind for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> <3


	3. the tilt jar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could remember when and where and how I thought of this. It’s a 10/10 concept though, not to toot my own horn or anything.

Johan is waiting in solo queue and reading chat when he sees the message. It catches his attention immediately, and it’s definitely not because Séb is mentioned in it.

_You should make Ceb a tilt jar (like a different version of a swear jar). I bet it would fill up pretty quickly. Kappa_

He reads the message out loud to the viewers after giggling at it for a second, shaking his head in amusement. “That’s a good idea, actually. I’m a little worried Séb will go bankrupt in just a few days, though.”

Soon enough Johan gets into a game, and the topic is forgotten. But when he finishes streaming for the day, the suggestion pops back into his mind. It follows him throughout the rest of the day, and in the end Johan has to cave. He finds himself a piece of paper and starts writing, chuckling as he does so.

* * *

_le pot de tilt pour monsieur sébastien debs_

_**0,5€** for each swear (français ou anglaise ou arabe)_

_**1€ **for each allchat flame (see above)_

_**5€** for each rage disconnect (c’mon séb you know better than that)_

_**10€** for each keyboard/table smash (give the poor folks a break)_

_all proceeds go towards getting untilted (perhaps by taking a certain someone on a date) ;)_

* * *

Johan grins as he’s finished, happy with the result. He goes into the kitchen to find a suitable jar to stick the note to, suddenly even more excited to fly to France the upcoming week. He can already imagine the look on Séb’s face when he receives the jar.

The jar ends up on Johan’s desk, patiently waiting to travel to France with him.

“What the fuck is this, Johan?” Séb stares at the jar in his hands, while Johan bursts into loud laughter next to him. He reads the note on the jar a couple of times, before looking up at Johan with utter disbelief written all over his face. There’s that shit-eating grin on Johan’s face that Séb has a love-hate relationship with, and he’s not sure if he wants to kiss him or flip him off. Perhaps it’s both.

_Unbelievable_, he thinks, _absolutely unbelievable_.

And Johan just giggles, smiling at Séb so brightly it nearly blinds him. He seems to be so _pleased_ with himself. “It’s your very own tilt jar. You can thank Twitch chat for that.”

Séb lets out a bewildered laugh, running a hand through his hair. Every time he thinks he’s figured out Johan for good, he manages to surprise him by pulling off something like... _this_. “If you think I’m actually going to use this, you’re fooling yourself.”

There should be alarm bells going off in Séb’s head when Johan just smiles at him, grabs the jar and puts it down before stepping forward to kiss him. But Séb is weak for Johan, completely distracted by the kiss, and he wraps his arms around the Dane. The jar is left behind as Johan lures him into the bedroom, and it’s too easy for Séb to forget about it.

It comes back to bite him in the ass the next day. Séb’s playing a pub game with Johan sitting in the room, writing something on his laptop. It’s one of those infuriating games where people refuse to play as a team, and after playing in OG where communication is highly valued, it gets on Séb’s nerves.

He might not be proud of his tilting tendencies, but that doesn’t stop him from muttering quiet insults and writing passive-aggressive messages in the chat. As they end up losing the game, Séb chucks his headphones off and groans, closing the DotA client almost immediately. He doesn’t think he can handle any more moronic teammates that day, he’s done with trying.

“I think that came to a total of 15,50€. You were very generous with the swears today.” Séb whips around to see Johan standing in front of him with the jar, smiling sweetly at him. And Séb finds himself at a loss of words; it isn’t the first time Johan has managed to make him speechless.

There’s no arguing with Johan, though, and Séb ends up getting his wallet and stuffing some money into the jar. The way Johan smiles when he does so, may in fact make it all very much worth it. Séb ends up getting some sweet kisses as a reward for playing along; 15,50€ is certainly a price he’s willing to pay for those.

Later that day there’s a picture of Séb holding the jar uploaded to Johan’s Instagram with the caption ‘_not too long until it’ll be full’. _


End file.
